


True or False

by Artificial_Starlight



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Coping, Paralysis, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Schizophrenia, Serious Injuries, Slow Build, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artificial_Starlight/pseuds/Artificial_Starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the final battle between the two strongest men of Ikebukuro and the city is changed. Tokyo is waiting with baited breath as the board is wiped clean. The streets feel safe again; colored gangs and various yakuza have been pushed back - nobody knows how or why. Shizuo wanders around in a daze, trying to make sense of the puzzle without all the missing pieces, lost and confused. Late in the evening, Shinra Kishitani receives a mysterious phone call that will put him at ease and yet send the world spinning once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Izaya Orihara is Dead

“You used to be the best.”

 “ _Used_ to be?”

 “You were a good person. You still are, I believe. You just… got carried away. And I don’t blame you, I only know a bit of what you really did for all of us and with that knowledge, I’m not surprised you lost your way in it.”

 “I didn’t-”

 “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help you. I realized too late that you needed it. We were supposed to be friends, that’s what friends do right? Although, we both aren’t very good at normal relationships, eh?”

 “Shinra…”

 “I know now why you didn’t tell me though… You knew exactly what I would have done - with Celty being in the middle of it all. You know me. It wasn’t even much of a prediction or a stretch of imagination, you just knew. And you also knew that I would pull away from you. I saw through your lies, hated the hole you dug for yourself with each step you took, dragging others down with you and - I took the logical course of action. I-”

 “Don’t go assuming-”

 “I abandoned our friendship, right? The moment I thought Celty was in danger, I lost all hope for you… and the worst part, was that you  _trusted_ me to do that.”

 “Oi, let me talk… I called you remember? Look, you were always the neutral party. You truly couldn’t care less about humanity or all its little affairs. I wish I could stay away and observe from afar but… I always wanted to push for more, see their faces up close, feel the emotions coming off of them so intently. It was like I couldn’t feel anything myself otherwise. Can sociopaths really function without the emotions that drive the rest of humanity?”

 “You can feel, Izaya. I’ve known that since our academy days; from funding our club together to Nakura.”

 “I did that for my own benefit. That’s what I’m trying to say - don’t go thinking I’m a hero when I had selfish reasons to do what I did. There’s always some ulterior motive to what I’ve done. You don’t need to get all sappy or think I somehow went around and saved you all.”

 “You’re lying.”

 “...” 

“You should come home, Izaya.”

 “I can’t.”

 “What are you doing that’s so important? I know you needed time, Celty and I have traveled too, trying to… heal. But we’ve been back for a few months now and things have been better. You don’t have to be an informant anymore, everyone thinks you’re dead! I haven’t heard from Awakusu in-”

 “I called you to tell you that I got a new job. I’m… relocating.”

 “Doing the same thing?”

 “Similar, yes.”

 “... and why are you telling me this now?”

 “Because, Shinra… You remain to be the only friend I have. And I need someone to know this just in case things don’t work out. You know, I kind of regret not leaving anything behind last time. Had Shizuo killed me, nobody would have known what I died for. Here lately I’ve felt the need to have someone - anyone understand. A genius needs an audience, you know?”

 “You mean you want to leave behind a tragedy? The story of a guy who went underground to play spy and died for a good cause?”

 “It’s my last moment of dramatic flare - I wonder how Shizuo would react knowing that I saved his friends, his brother - and in return he murdered me so brutally, like the monster he is.”

 “He didn’t take your death particularly well, Izaya. Whether he ever learns the truth or not, Shizuo is not a killer. It’s shocked him to the core to see many of the people he knew be taken to prison. Although, I’m glad you worked out a deal for those kids… Mikado, Masaomi, and Anri - Celty is relieved that they weren’t locked away. However, Vorona and her assassin friends will come after you if they ever get out you know?”

 “I’m dead, remember?”

 “And I know… that fight with Shizuo affected you more than you portray. Are you - that is - who is caring for you?”

 “Does it matter?”

 “Ah, I worry. I was not your doctor after the fight but I’m told you sustained heavy injuries, particularly in the torso area and your arms. If you would come back to Ikebukuro I could see-”

 “I’m doing fine, Shinra.”

 “Would you stop interrupting me, jeez, and to think,  _you_ called  _me_! I was beginning to think you missed my voice.”

 “Not really, besides, you can’t yell at me for interrupting you when you’re blabbing my ear off, yeah~”

 “Listen, Izaya! If you are really going back undercover, you have to tell me if you’re  _ready_ for that! Don’t let them bully you into it if you’re limited by your injuries.”

 “What injuries? I’m only… incapacitated in a wheelchair. With both arms significantly weakened - metal plates and screws holding my bones together - I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk or throw knives again, and with no chance of defending myself I guess I’m a perfect candidate to play the helpless victim card so long as it gains sympathy. That’s my game. It’s all I have, and that’s what I have to work with. Working body or not, I’m too much of an asset not to use, and… this is all I know how to do.”

 “It’s that bad... “

 “I didn’t call you for pity or help, Shinra. I served my purpose in Ikebukuro and I got what I deserved; my injuries are my just reward. I called because… selfishly, I wanted to pretend. I think that Izaya Orihara, at least the one I was at Raira, is dead. I don’t feel the same anymore and in fact, it's been a long time since I have. But I think people should know who he was; a son, a brother, a friend - whatever he was to the few who cared. They should know, if they wanted or cared to.”

 “That’s not fair, Izaya. You can’t just decide you’re not-”

 “Izaya Orihara can’t do the work that needs to be done - his mask has cracked. It’s too dangerous for him, it’s better if he is dead and remembered for something better.”

 “You sound a lot like some kind of superhero vigilante. Let me guess: Batman?”

 “Shinra… Make fun of it all you want, but the truth of the matter is, I’m slipping.”

 “Maybe those injuries have gotten to your head - lasting brain damage?”

 “No. I’ve had that looked over. It’s not medical, it’s not physical. It’s mental. Maybe… maybe I was not the kind of person meant to take this kind of job. Pretending to be someone I’m not, breaking myself into pieces. I think I’ve literally torn my mind apart and I can’t put it back together.”

 “You’ve been an agent since middle school - the youngest spy employed by the police force, tasked with a deep undercover mission to root out all executives of Awakusu, Yodogiri, the color gangs, yakuza… you delved in so deep, been the bad guy for so long, it takes time to resurface-”

 “I don’t think I  _can_! I can’t just go b-back, this is all I know! I’m a bad guy, I can’t say that I didn’t  _enjoy_ half the things I did, Shinra. Playing with people, manipulating them, destroying it all, I loved every bit of it and you think I could just become part of society as a regular boring civilian? I need  _something_ even if it’s just a distraction - to f-forget that I’ve killed, tortured, deceived, betrayed - hell, if not that, then at least forget the fact that I’m now a  _cripple_!”

 “Izaya, if you go back in - and damn them to hell for even suggesting you do in your condition - you may  _never_ come back! This is bullshit, you’re  _traumatized_ and suffering from lasting injuries, Izaya Orihara is not  _dead_ he just needs to come home for a  _break_.”

 “It’s been two years-”

 “I know how long it's been, damn it! Listen, PTSD doesn’t have a time frame. You’ve been in this for eight years… It’s  _okay_ to feel like you’re slipping; you’re unsteady because you haven’t been able to separate who you are from the character you’ve been playing all this time, but don’t give up on that… Come home. You can stay with Celty and I. I can be your doctor, maybe we can get you to walk again!”

 “Thank you, Shinra. But I’m not ready to return to Ikebukuro… maybe I really did miss your voice or something. It looks like I called you for nothing. No… I wanted to know what you thought of me; if you had given up on Izaya too. Maybe there is hope for him, yeah?”

 “Izaya…”

 “Suzaku Rama. If you ever need to get ahold of me, ask for Suzaku. Don’t call this number, don’t speak about Izaya Orihara to anyone, understand? For now, the only thing I can do is go on… but I’m glad that you’ll be there to welcome home Izaya, if or when he’s ready to go back.”

 “... If that’s all I can get, then I will take it. Suzaku-san, please, take care. If - if there’s anything I can do for you, then let me know.”

“Sure thing. Thank you, Shinra-san.”


	2. Accused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day the world seemed to stop turning.

_“Get down on the floor, now! Put your hands on your head. I said get down!”_

_Shizuo complied, his surprise taking over the initial rush of anger as a squad of police swarmed into the office, interrupting an important meeting and flashing weapons in their faces. Tom went down to the tiled floor next to him, glancing to Shizuo with an expression that told him to obey and do the same._

_“You are under arrest for illegal activities dealing with murder, extortion, kidnapping, and other claims against you which will be reviewed as soon as possible with a representative of your own available to you.”_

_“W-what? We haven’t-”_

_Shizuo’s protest was cut off as a rifle was pointed at his face. He had to remind himself that these were not thugs but police, the natural authorities that would have a viable reason for killing him should he snap._

_So, he kept silent, obeying commands that made his teeth grind. His wrists were cuffed (did they know he could break them with barely a thought?), and Tom, the manager of their business, and Varona were led out to the street with him. Two large steel vans waited for them and as Shizuo was stepping up into the back of one Varona sudden struck out._

_She twisted in her binds to kick an officer in the face, flipping over to bring her hands in fron of her body before thrusting her palm into another officer’s jaw._

_“Varona,” Tom called, a warning, a plea to stop._

_Her cold gaze didn't waver as she grabbed a pistol from the unconscious bodies, turning around to fire her weapon at two others. Already moving, she jumped up on top of the van, jumping off the other side in a fine display of athleticism before landing on another officer, her body turning with her thighs wrapped around the man’s neck, he fell down with a dull snap of bones breaking._

_“I am sorry to have to leave you, Tom. I wish you did not find out about me in such a way.”_

_Shizuo gulped, looking around at the police officers surrounding them. Three of them were bleeding heavily, two at least must have been killed. Police from the other van took cover, bringing out their own guns to take aim. Varona hid behind the other armored vehicle._

_Tom pulled at Shizuo, trying to get him out of the line of fire and Shizuo allowed it, a blank misunderstanding look in his eyes. “If- If this is about Izaya. If it’s because you killed him-”_

_“It could have been. But I suspect not. I truly am an assassin. And we met once before when I took a job to kidnap Akane Awakusu.”_

_“Y-you.”_

_Gunfire erupted, spraying the van in sparks that dented but did not penetrate. Tom yelped, pulling Shizuo further away to the side and down to the ground._

_“I must leave now. Pray we do not meet again. For if we do, I must kill you.” That was the last thing they heard before she took off in the opposite direction, gunfire returning from her stolen weapon and more bullets chasing her. The van took off after her, several men leaving in pursuit. A single cop with a rifle came their way._

_“Backup is on its way, I encourage you not to fight and please get in the vehicle for transportation. We are authorized to use deadly force in bringing you all in.”_

_Slowly, with hands open and pronounced movements, Tom and Shizuo stood. “All of us?” Tom asked softly._

_He had thought of the company, wondering if their manager had been in trouble recently for loaning money to the wrong people or for the wrong reasons. It wasn’t until later, as they were being processed into a jail house of sorts that they got a new idea of what that meant._

_“Mikado, Masaomi! What - Anri? What are you doing here?”_

_“We’re being questioned…”_

_“About what?” Shizuo growled, unthinkingly throwing his fist at the bars separating their cells, denting the steel beam._

_“I… well,” Mikado leaned forward, his face buried into his hands. Masaomi next to him remained silent as did Anri in the next cell over, separated from the boys. “I’m the leader of the Dollars!” He yelled out as if pulling off a bandaid in telling the truth. “It’s my fault these bad things happened and now the police know and-”_

_“They know about me too,” Masaomi mumbled._

_Anri scooted as close to the boys as she could, reaching over to touch Mikado on the arm. “We have an interrogation and a court date.”_

_The door to the cell bank opened with a bang and a very familiar motorcycle cop stepped in, an underground doctor in tow along with a leather figured woman in a helmet. Shinra looked only slightly worried, gazing around quickly to find all the other prisoners, he kept looking back to Celty, murmuring comforting words to her._

_Shinra was placed into the cell with Shizuo and Tom while Celty was put in with Anri. “Now, I know you want to use your shadow things to get out, but know that this place is heavily guarded and locked down tight. I’d like to see you try to get far.” Kinnosuke Kuzuhara stated, grinning in challenge._

_Celty shivered, hunching in._

_“Don’t scare her!” Shinra yelled. “Look, I know we can get this all figured out. I don’t want any trouble, so please, just get ahold of Nakura Juuzo. He can vouch for me; my practice is very legitimate-”_

_“Nakura has been terminated.”_

_Suddenly, Shinra turned white as a sheet. “W-what? That’s Impossible!”_

_“As of yesterday evening, Nakura was compromised and considered unfit for duty. His mission is now being undertaken by me personally. His information is being combed through as we speak. Soon, we will know if any of you deserve to be let out or if all of you will be locked away in prison for a very long time.”_

_Silent and looking deadly pale and frightened, Shinra slid down to sit on the given bench beside Tom. Shizuo got up close to the bars. “What are we being charged for? How did you even know that information though? Izaya? Did he give everything out in revenge? He must have done this! He’s done it before; I’ve been framed!” Shizuo snarled._

_“Did you not hear me?” The officer asked coldly, unmoved by Shizuo’s anger. “He’s dead.”_

_Without another word, Kinnosuke turned on his heel, leaving the jail with a loud bang of the door once more, leaving the room in a tense quiet. Shizuo slowly twisted to slide his back down the bars, landing on the floor with a defeated slump. “I didn’t kill him,” Shizuo murmured to himself. “I didn’t actually kill him. I stopped. I tried to stop - Varona… But she... “_

_“If Izaya is dead,” Shinra whispered. His voice carried in the bare room of iron and steel, despite the quietness of it. “Then nothing will be the same… and not for the better.”_


	3. Pretending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never actually complained about the situation he was in. Despite the fact that his pride went up in flames every time he was dressed, every time he was put to bed, and every time he had to be helped into the bath. He deserved every bit of it. But truthfully, he was going a bit insane and he didn't know how long he could stand being in limbo.

“Are you ready?” Izaya turned his head, the setting sun on his face turning his eyes a deep burgundy. Kine fell into a nearby chair, rubbing his bald head in exhaustion, not looking ready at all. However, upon catching those red eyes, he attempted a smile, wane as it was. “You still look tired, kid.”

Despite being confined to a wheelchair, working from computers and phones, Izaya battled insomnia and a restless need to move. And yet, from the window before him he could see the skycrapers of Tokyo across the channel, far away and yet close enough to imagine the bustling street life of the biggest city of Japan, the one he had grown up in and studied, and he felt he could stay and watch it forever.

“It’s been too long. They’re getting impatient.”

“The police can deal,” Kine scoffed. “You testified against so many, you’re the reason so many yakuza are in prison, they owe you so much more than a lousy few years in a protection program… I’d fight them for it if you wanted.”

“What would be the point? Besides, if it wasn’t me, then someone else would be sent in to do the work.”

“True,” Kine admitted, angry at the undeniable fact. “They grabbed you at sixteen, didn’t they? Jeez, they go for them young.”

“Where am I going?”

“As requested, they’re letting you start a new project. You’re going to Kobe, to start gathering information on a group recently split from the main gang of the area. Tensions are high considering a large chunk of the yamaguchi was separated and the elites are not happy. Violence is likely to break out as they stabilize.”

“So, you’re shipping me across the country, huh? Do you think the Hyogo area will recognize me?”

“They will… whether that will actually aid you or not, I can’t say. Your stance in the Awakusu gave you some big connections. You remember being in contact with a man named Akiro Hamichki?”

“The executive of an Osaka yakuza, mostly dealing with drug trafficking.”

“Yeah, that one. Well, that’s where most of the trouble is coming from. Ideally, he’s your target, or rather; the big fish we need to fry is _his_ boss - he’s the one leading the new gang. Kobe and Osaka are gearing up for a war now that the Yamaguchi split, and their territory and power over their drug chain is going to be the center of it all. This is the best time to slip in, in the middle of the chaos. It’s also the most dangerous, these people are still figuring out where their loyalties lay.”

“I can get in contact with Akiro Hamichki. If my reputation as an information broker has reached him, then I’m sure he’ll take my services, especially if he wants to be sure of those on his side.”

“You’ll be working with him personally then,” Kine mumbled, looking away from the informant with a downed expression.

“Why does that suddenly bother you?”

“I think the change in business will have a bigger impact than you think. Awakusu dealt with human trafficking, this is drugs-”

“Human trafficking is not worse? I’ve seen girls sold into sexual slavery, walked their whore houses, paid for services myself even, just to show sincerity and throw off suspicions.”

“Yeah, you’ve never been bothered by other people’s emotions.” Kine chuckled dryly. “These guys in Kobe will attempt to do the same; show you what it's like to take their products, whatever twisted creations they make to get people addicted. Good cops have been lost to this kind of world, you know? With the Awakusu, I could see that you knew how to distance yourself but here… it’ll all be internal.”

“Don’t pretend to be worried now, Kine.” Izaya frowned, bringing a palm up from his lap to tap against the joystick of his electric wheelchair. His forearms were still too weak to operate the wheels manually, and so the motor on the chair turned with the direction of his palm. It made an annoying humming sound when it moved, Izaya thought. Following him everywhere, reminding him of his incapacity.

It was slow, even though he had fiddled with the machine to remove all the limiters placed on the speed. His chair could barely keep up with a fast walk and as he turned to the kitchen of the spacious loft, half in an excuse to escape Kine and the conversation, he found that it was no escape at all as the man left his armchair to join him. Before Izaya could maneuver around the counter to the refrigerator, Kine was already there, refilling a glass with water and handing it to the other with a frown. “I am worried about your health, Izaya. Mentally and physically, you should be recuperating.”

“Do you feel obligated?” Izaya asked with a bit of a snap. He couldn’t help but feel insulted; from the way Kine hovered, to the fact that he gave him a glass of water at all - completing the task in half the time it would have taken Izaya - and _no_ he was not bitter. “You are half the reason I was accepted as an undercover cop. As you say, at the tender age of sixteen.”

“Right. I needed a partner, and someone to take my place, and out of all the kids they lined up in front of me, I chose you. You had spunk, kid. I knew you would survive it.”

“Technically,” Izaya smirked cruelly. “I’m surviving, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t expect you to be in there for eight years, Izaya, or the mess of everyone getting involved. I couldn’t predict half the shit that went on.”

“Nobody can predict Shizuo Heiwajima, right?”

“To be fair… you wanted him to kill you.”

“That I did. And he failed. I suppose that could also have been blamed on you though; seeing as you were the one that saved me. So now, what more do you expect but for me to continue.” Izaya asked as he took a drink of his water, sipping from the glass slowly.

Kine sighed, aggravated. “You keep turning my words around in circles.”

“You make it so easy.”

“We’ll get to be partners again, you should show more respect, you know?”

“Really?”

“Did you think you were going in alone? I’ve been wiggling my way in these past few months selling some stuff. We’ll be in differing sects, as I’m doing more legwork - no offense - but we’ll be seeing each other around.”

“Are you really there as a partner for the sake of the mission, or to watch over me?”

A few seconds of telling silence passed before Kine dared to reach over and run a hand roughly across Izaya’s head of hair. His grin wasn’t without a hint of danger, “Maybe a bit of both. I’m not letting what happened last time happen again, kid. I’m watching over you now.”

“I don’t need a father figure in my life, Kine.”

From the other side of the room, heels clapped against metal stairs and both men turned to see a beautiful young woman in a provocative dress and heels descend from the upstairs level of the loft. “Kine _would_ try to be the father in this little rag-tag group,” She contributed, securing an earing as she passed.

“Manami,” Kine acknowledged. “Should I tell you to change your closes before going out like that? Or is there a boyfriend I need to meet and scare off?”

Her sharp eyes sent him a glare. “Shut up. I’m going on a date before we leave for Osaka tomorrow - who knows what creeps we’ll be meeting from here on out.”

Izaya’s eyes widened. “W-wait, you’re going too?”

“Duh.”

Twisting in his chair to follow her across the room he narrowed his expression into suspicion, thinking quickly on this new information. “You make it seem like that was obvious, but I’m still wondering why.”

Walking around the living room to find her purse and phone, she checked both before rolling her eyes his way. “I’ve decided to help you.”

Red eyes flicked from Manami to Kine, watching his expression for any hint of rejection, realizing the older man knew of her involvement and already agreed. “So what, you’re suddenly allowed to join in a covert operation? Since when was that legal or acceptable?”

“Since she was brought into the fold when we saved you,” Kine answered. “The moment she knew your identity as an officer, her time with you was sealed. Seeing as she didn’t have any criminal record or involvement in anything illegal, the most they could do was convince her to keep everything she knew silent, part of that effort is simply inducting her into the protection program.”

“I know that,” Izaya snapped. “I understand her situation, but what I don’t get, is why she’s suddenly allowed to follow us on a mission?”

“Because I’m one of the only friends you’ve got,” Manami growled. “I may not be a cop, but I have some kind of clearance to help you - be your contact, your support, whatever-”

“My support? I thought you wanted revenge on me?”

She sighed, using her phone as a mirror to fix her hair. “Obviously, like you said before, you got what was coming to you. Besides…” Finally looking up at him, she smiled. “You really could use the support. I know now that being an undercover cop was really hard; you had everyone convinced. All you had were enemies surrounding you, and that’s not right.”

Izaya stared, shocked into silence as he watched Manami finish some last minute touches on her lip gloss, Kine rummaging through the pantry to snack on potato chips. They were so… domestic and Izaya didn’t know how to feel about it. While he did spend a lot of time with them, he had learned to keep his distance (or was it just habit?). Their relationship was unstable half of the time, with Kine being the main source of transportation to doctor visits and such, Manami shadowing them constantly with snarky comments. She helped with dinner a few times and grudgingly assisted the two men with other things.

However, nobody would ever say Izaya had no pride. He was stubborn, narcissistic, and cruel - most likely stemming forth with more spite than usual due to his vulnerability. Their help was an unwanted necessity. He could still feel his legs, but could not use them without unbearable pain. Arms embedded with metal can barely hold his own weight, they shook uncontrollably at times, and he swore he could still feel echoes of the concussion he’d suffered over two years ago.

As embarrassing as it was, he needed help doing everyday things that he’d taken for granted before. Getting dressed, taking a bath, cooking, traveling - and perhaps his two companions were not the worst people for the task, as they didn’t complain (needlessly), or tease him (mostly). Kine took after the job with much willingness, definitely a sense of sympathy and obligation. Minami eventually stayed out of curiosity and a new revelation.

Izaya hated it.

The bald detective fell back on the couch, shoving chips in his mouth and getting crumbs all over his wrinkled casual suit. Manami scoffed in disgust as she saw how messy he was and he grinned at her, wiggling his greasy fingers her direction, like he was going to wipe them on her black dress.

“Quit it, old man!”

“Your lips are too shiny, how do you expect a man to kiss you with wax on ‘em like that?”

“Like anyone would kiss _you_ -”

The snarky conversations were nothing new, and Izaya could at least use their distraction to his advantage. Sighing quietly, he directed his wheelchair around the furniture in the direction of the only bedroom downstairs, his of course. “Just so you know, I don’t need either of you watching over me, but whatever. It doesn’t matter to me what you do so long as you don’t get in my way.”

The other two didn’t seem to be listening, but Izaya knew they had heard. It was still early in the evening, enough that Izaya could expect a take-out order to be placed soon enough, if Kine didn’t fill up on snacks. Alone in his room down the hall, he couldn’t hear them bicker anymore and the quiet of the empty room comforted him but made it feel a little more lonely.

He had gotten used to the quiet though. Two years of nothing but hospital visits, court cases and reviews with the police. He went through training and interrogation by the chief to be sure of his loyalty, polygraph testing to be sure of the truth, physical therapy and surgery, research and reporting. People surrounded him; doctors, police, his caretakers, but it was all white noise that Izaya wished he could do without.

Alone in the quiet, he felt that he could relax. He wore so many masks throughout the day, most of them easy to keep up with, but his cheeks hurt from trying to smile so much, his throat hoarse from socializing and playing nice. He loved to talk, but here lately there wasn’t much to speak about and he grew tired of the same subjects and topics of conversation.

His desk had no chair - obviously because he sat in a permanent one all day. Rolling up to it made him irrationally annoyed with that fact; he missed office chairs and how they swiveled. His wheelchair couldn’t spin like he was used to. Running a hand through his hair, he turned on his laptop with the other, trying to feel a little less anxious.

In a way, he was extremely glad to be given a new assignment. He didn’t do well in this… _limbo_. His mind seemed to prey upon itself in boredom.

Now, he had a focus. If he was going undercover again, he needed to get back into the game. The game was the best part! He’d set up the board, label his mixture of pieces, observe how they moved, predicted what steps they’d take next - always ten steps ahead, waiting for checkmate, waiting for the most opportune time to destroy them... Izaya was always the champion.

Well… not _always_.

Obviously.

Sometimes he lost himself in the game, became _part_ of it instead of remaining the invisible hand; how could he stand back and watch when he wanted to share their experiences? It made him feel more alive. Like a God who wanted to feel closer to his subjects. He wanted to feel these emotions that drove them so relentlessly, knowing that those particular reactions always seemed to be missing in himself.

What was it like to feel such despair that one would consider suicide? How did it feel to love so deeply as to put their whole lives at risk for that other person?

He didn’t understand, but he’d tried. He could relate to a few in ways; he loved his sisters, felt affection for Shinra, felt hate for Shizuo. However, were emotions so easily defined for everyone? How does one measure love? To one person, love could be innocent and pure, born of romance and passion, or dependence and control. It was all chemical reactions in the brain.

Maybe Izaya’s version of love just didn’t fit into society’s definition.

After all, he enjoyed seeing his destruction lay waste to the things he loved.

Despite the fact that he might be regretting how far he let that ‘love’ go before, he needed that persona of himself to step up now. There was work to be done, and the first step was always to gain someone’s trust. What strength trust can be when born of love? Find the right person desperate enough for attention and it was so easy to slip in and pretend.

Izaya was good at pretending. He was good at pretending to love.

_Chrome has entered the chat room_

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that I'll work a little bit on when I can. I want to slowly fill things in with small scenes to fit like puzzle pieces for each character.
> 
> Anyway, let me know if you like~


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